


Oasis

by cafenzie



Category: Naruto
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:34:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23335450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cafenzie/pseuds/cafenzie
Summary: oops I'm definitely late for this to be a birthday present. . .
Comments: 2





	Oasis

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sasaria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sasaria/gifts).



Of all the pilgrimages Yotogari Shinri has faced before, none of them drain him as easily and fluidly as the scorched plains of the Wind country’s outlying desert. Surely, this is meant to ward off travelers! There is a sudden sting of gratefulness that he had been so keen as to fill his canteen before taking leave from the capital city _Tani_ , and the wistful promise that he should be closing in on his destination soon. His decision to carry both a handmade _shamisen_ as well as an ornate _sanshin_ made from a _mamushi_ pit viper he had come across began to seem more and more like a poor choice. That instrument of snakeskin and it’s origin felt more than likely a sour reminder of the land’s previous _sannin_ , as well as the pets he had accustomed himself with. Now, Shinri bore one as his own, victorious. What he also bears is the name of his family, of each of his brothers and his father and grandfather. Each member of his clansmen and those others left in the endemic wake that was his home. Today, however, he also bears another home he’s come to acquire, shown by the florid metal-and-jade tag encrusted with the Tsuouji family crest of a camellia. Both this, and his worn headband from when he was still a naive child, grant him passage and yet, are also the crux for his suffering in the heat that never ceases.

Even the guards of the canyon-like perimeter stop and unveil their eyes to gaze longer upon both insignia. The sentry to his left, a man who’s kept the face of someone younger (though given away by his speech and mannerisms as he instructs the others), wipes the dust from his forehead and whistles out loud at the sight. 

“Well, how about that? _Ginza_ , look at this! This is real jade from the Flower nation - I haven’t even heard a peep from anyone quite near that place in decades.” Although Shinri remained quiet, he assumed that this was meant to be a compliment. Secretly, he was glad for the lack of mention for his other identifier. “Well, it’s nice to see someone from there, at least. You’d better hurry on to wherever it is you’re staying, buddy. I have an itch that the winds may not be so nice tonight.” 

If this blistering sun were any insight to how aberrant to the weather alone, then he decidedly was not looking forward to the winds suggested by the sentinels. But the man was kind enough to direct him to the fifteenth district where his reserved inn was located, thanking him all the more for the information. And without another word or gruff remark about the musical note engraved into his headband, Shinri disappeared into the cavern. And does the wind rise. If Shinri were to try and find a suitable metaphor for the position of the weather in relation to the warning given he would amount it similar to: when it rains, it pours. He barely finds himself in the seventh district before seeing villagers shield their eyes in sandy-covered shawls of all colors, ushering themselves languidly into homes lining the main streets. The looming shadow of the first district’s towering buildings grow ever-distant amidst the wind that makes it harder to see, as if he were attempting to cut through thick fog. He’s almost sure enough that he has missed his destination completely, or has moved no more than one hundredth of a kilometer! Through some mystifying fortune, however, he’s greeted by paddle-shaped leaves and stalks of fiery crane flowers of a terracotta edifice; the name he catches between gusts is the same he was promised during his stay. Perhaps now his only hope is for a significantly cooler night and running water available to shower in! 

Although the temperature certainly has not dropped since the highs of that afternoon, Shinri acquiesces that it is far better to be indoors and freed from the abundance of heavy fabric, instruments, and luggage once on his back. Even the chill of a shower has greatly improved his outlook on the weather and makes it bearable. What he is also learning, at the same time, is that nightfall comes without warning. It seems to blanket the entire city in a matter of minutes, despite the many promises that a summertime sunset in _Suna_ is worth the travel. While he does not discredit this idea, he’s unsure if he really would be prepared to put up with the same journey he has just finished. But perhaps a photograph card copy of it would be better, if at least to bring back as a souvenir to Tsuouji Uzuki of whom begged and pleaded nonstop to have Shinri bring her back a gift, since she was not allowed to go herself. Any self righteous seven-year-old like that would normally get on Shinri’s nerves, and even the elder sibling Kiriya readily agreed. In times past when the two traveled together (usually with the reluctance of the _daimyou_ ) she would pout and demand to go as well, deeming it “unfair” that Kiriya was allowed to leave the castle walls and journey outside. Of course, since he was not the favored heir, Shinri assumed his mother’s lax nature came as a result. The same, of which, was not the case for Uzuki. Still, she held some resemblance of the younglings of Shinri’s own clan that humbled him and had him promising to at least return with some token of his travels. 

Now reaching for the prolonged handle of a _shamisen_ and inquisitively plucking a few strings to test it’s tune, Yotogari Shinri could sink into the comforts of a lightweight cushion and strive to relax by playing whatever melody came to mind off-hand. Even if it were all throughout the night with less time to sleep, he would sit and strum some kind of familiar sense of a home that he was unsure of while stranded in a desert which confounded him and dared to sweep him away. 

  
  


The conference hall of the city’s embassy is barren and drowned in soft white hues that manage to filter through the shades of protected glass windows overlooking the entirety of the east quarter. For approximately forty-five minutes now - and counting - Shinri has awaited patiently to be met for querying in order to make arrangements between both nations he has been asked to represent. Why exactly the _daimyou_ requested that he venture and act as her representative, he did not know. Remaining baffled, it lodged the idea into his brain that perhaps Kiriya had spoken for his friend and passed enlightening recommendations onto his mother. In any case, he was bound to honor the appeal both out of pure respect as well as to continue solidifying the pact that had come between his home and that of the micro-nation. As it stood, there were few others willing to accept the olive branch he attempted to extend from the Sound country. It was simply good logic that some alliance was better than none at all, especially if it would aid in gaining the trust of others by proxy! Even now, he was keeping himself from wringing his hands - or in this case, itching to finger at the strings of a musical instrument to calm himself - at the thought of how this entire ordeal may go. 

There were no secrets to any other nation far and wide that received news and had known of the rift between both countries due to the former leader. Events more than a decade ago felt like fresh wounds, and Shinri had seen the price paid for it. It was a price every person in his home paid, too. Droughts of famine, sickness, even promises of war and racketeering for a purge at the hands of those holding grudges were whispered between his adolescent ears. As time went on, the defamation of his people for the _sannin’s_ course of action in the neighboring country only seemed to grow. And yet, the man himself paid little to no attention to those he brought harm to; in fact, it only seemed to continue more rapidly. Soon enough, famine became less of an issue, since there were no longer as many mouths to feed, with many having either been tucked away for “scientific purposes” or buried beneath the earth as a result. Subsequently, what few female members of his own family remained dwindled in numbers, both as preferred test subjects, as well as having returned with unsightly side effects that resulted in a stall of generations all over the land. 

Shinri had cursed the name of his own family for their foolishness; for the injudicious fate they had poured themselves by their loyalty to a man who swallowed anyone whole and loved no one and no thing, instead laid claim over everything he saw. Now when he looked back into that headband, he wondered if it was still worthwhile to call it a home at all. 

“Excuse me, sir.”

Shinri peels himself to look across nothingness and find the same escort who guided him through the building earlier. The young man, accent think and laden from his tongue, makes another silent apology for the prolonged wait, delivering yet another message. “Just another minute or so, the previous meeting has just adjourned so they will be with you shortly.” He asks if there is anything else to be done to make his wait more comfortable and Shinri feebly asks for a cup of tea. “Of course, sir. One will be prepared for all of you and brought when steeped.”

A multitude of worries and apprehensions that should apparate to the forefront of his mind vanish momentarily, the room seeming to soak up the sun’s rays and whatever previously plagued Yotogari Shinri. It’s an admittedly nice feeling, if only for fleeting seconds that it lasts. Even the succulent planter grounded in the middle of the oblong table has a greater sense of calm that he. Perhaps it could drink some of his own, too. It’s far too late, however, as a second knock frequents the door once more. Standing in expectation, Shinri is greeted to the sight of a woman who is assuredly not the man he is appointed to see. The person he expects, an astute-looking redhead, instead follows behind. Besides the obvious, Shinri finds his first thoughts to run along the lines of, “How is he wearing so many layers in this wretched heat?” Of course, he also falls silently curious for the unrequited appearance of the woman lending herself to reach forward and present herself. He fears these same silvery irises he’s looking into are ones that resemble more of a sky from another day and time - a separate place altogether, in fact. And he’s acutely aware that he is right. Because this woman standing not three feet from him is the same that greeted him to consciousness, who had coaxed him from a war-torn field and remained on the tip of his eyelashes when he’d close his eyes at night. At the time, he had only known her as the soldier from the Leaf village who thrust her defense unto him against the battalion that dared to tear through them. 

With no hand-eye coordination, Shinri’s tongue slacks, “ _You_ are the Lord Fifth’s consul?” 

Silence befalls the ears present of the hall, words meandered out of close range from the sudden inquiry, feeling heavy and juxtaposed in the room. Even the generally stoic demeanor of _Suna’s_ leader, himself, leads to dispel the strangeness hanging in the air, clearing his throat and stepping forward. 

“I am the Fifth - but please, Gaara.” This time, Shinri does not miss the handshake procured, and corrects himself, quickly apologizing in haste. But looking back to the woman settling into the seat directly across from him, he’s aware she recognizes him, too.

“I apologize; I’m Abi. Unfortunately, while I may not be a consul, per say, I do oversee to the arrangements and sustainment of all current foreign affairs for the city of _Suna_.” 

Ah, this...explains her position in front of him, as well as the silence of her associate - or is she technically _his_ associate? 

“Forgive me, I am Yotogari Shinri of the Sound village. I also represent the Flower country and that of her ladyship, the _daimyou_ Tsuouji, who has requested I attend in her place.” Already, Shinri can feel that same unpleasant scratch on the underside of his tongue, the heavy feeling on his pleura both out of embarrassment and worrisome nature. Before him is the sole representative of the nation of which was stabbed in the back by the serpentine _sannin_ ; the very same whose father was slain by the same hand. Part of him hoped there was mercy at the fingertips of this man. Another part of him bore shame, as well as anger. 

As promised, a steaming ceramic kettle of turquoise and brass patterns is brought in, settled between the trio, followed by their respective mugs and a basket of seasoned _senbei._ Abi is the first to move, standing to pour the tea for each of them and offering a smile to Shinri; “It is cardamon-fennel tea with orange peel. A blend made from the greenhouse here in the city. I hope it pleases you.” A word of thanks is heard before observing as she returns to her seat, smoothing down her skirt and linking pieces of hair behind her ears. 

“Now then,” a single paper is lifted from the stack of many before her, eyes methodical. “I appreciate you coming all the way here to meet with us. Many other nations came forward after the war to instate treaties; however, we are aware there are just as many more we have missed or not yet had the chance to reach out to. I do appreciate your presence and it is my hope that this kindling friendship between our lands will be gratifying.” 

Earthy. That’s the word Shinri wanted to use to describe Abi. 

  
  


A full four and a half hours pass in tandem behind the windows guarding the embassy, eliciting a finalized treaty agreement for both nations, later to be copied overnight and returned to Shinri the following day. Although Gaara himself was not as involved in the work directly, it surprises Shinri to see when he stands first and moves around the table to take his hand once more. 

“I am very grateful for the opportunity to speak with you, and I do hope you will reach out to us if in need of any aid, or return to visit.” It was a little shocking, to say the least, but Shinri is a man humbled by forces in his life and professional in his current standing. Readily agreeing to such, they each bid farewell to another for the day, which now turns to slowly close with the dimming sun. “Abi will return those papers to you early tomorrow morning as well as escort you out. In the meantime, please enjoy what our city has to offer and the remainder of your stay.” Now Shinri can definitely feel whatever warmth is left in the room rush to his cheeks, swallowing a silent prayer. 

For a moment longer than necessary, perhaps, neither speak. 

“Is it not curious that we should be meeting against in such strange circumstances?” Laughter ebbing from her lungs is a distinct sound Shinri would not expect nor be able to place if asked at random. It seems to flow from her lungs and belly all at once, briefly shivering her shoulders and each stray strand of hair before she silences herself. “I’m sorry, but it is pleasant to see you once more, Yotogari-”

“Please, just Shinri; being called by my family name makes me feel so-” **Alone** . “-old. And professional.” Which he does not believe himself to be in any capacity as of right now. No, to him he is still like a young man who has strayed into a different pathway of life not open to him - quite literally! Despite this, each new piece of evidence of her vastly different life only seem so to confuse him further, creating a shroud. But still, Abi’s eyes remain that same calloused blue that melts; everything of her that guides curiosity, like the sound of a _shakuhachi._

“I’m afraid our scrivener is unable to return a copy of your own until tomorrow morning, but perhaps you would allow me to treat you to lunch nearby? I can imagine your hunger.” She doesn’t allow him the shallowness to beg forgiveness and disregard such an intimate offer to pay for him; Abi is already half-way out the door! Instead, Shinri finds himself meekly following at her heels down the winding corridor, politely giving her space when they stop at a filing suite and arrange a scroll that is then discarded to a funneling tube station. Before Shinri knows it, the folder is whirled away with a sudden influx of air, and out of sight. The streets outside of the embassy department are burning and the air acrid with a strange desiccation unknown to Yotogari Shinri until now. For now, he allows Abi to lead the way, momentarily stupified by the heat, and knowing that he trusts her to choose whatever sounds best. Not that he would be picky in any way! Anything to cool him off and fill his belly would be fine with him. ...Perhaps, just as long as it did not include something too out of the ordinary such as caramelized scorpions and splintering succulent bites full of hallucinogens like he’d often heard rumors of. Part of him hoped those were simply just that: rumors, and nothing more. 

“ _-Shinri…_?” 

“Hm?” He’s done it again, and he feels his cheeks heat up far more than the sun has done damage to inflict, “I-I apologize, the heat must be affecting me…” Abi does not seem to mind at all - in fact, she simply titters out another laugh at this remark, her own cheeks turning rosy

“I suppose fetching something to cool us off will help, surely. Do not worry, I have the perfect spot just up ahead. I was actually wondering why Tsuouji was not present with you if you were sent in favor of the Flower Country…?” 

Oh, that. It feels a little out of his place to divulge such information, but he ransoms that Abi is not a stranger, nor would she be digging him out for something more cruel. If he were in her place, he might ask, too. “Kiriya’s mother, the _daimyou_ , she...hasn’t been happy with him as of late. When we returned, nothing seemed to change with his mother. If anything, I fear it got worse. She cordially asked me to do this for her - though I’m unsure why - yet prohibited Kiriya from travelling with me.” As he speaks, he feels his voice shrinking. Guilt weighs his tongue down. Despite being unable to refute her request, Shinri is still plagued by shameful curiosity at his position and the estrangement that had been further placed unto Kiriya. Was it not in better interest to send him for this sort of interaction, if nothing else? Perhaps she did not share the same sentiment - the thought which makes his blood heat up beyond the effects of the weather. 

In keeping pace with Shinri, Abi can see this expression of disapproval hidden in the tiniest crevices of Yotogari Shiri’s exterior. Each crinkle of his eyes inward or purse of eyebrow hairs, even the de-focused lens of his gaze tells her he’s thinking of something that holds far greater repercussions. She doesn’t want to pry, so she regards his explanation with insight. She, herself, was not unaware of the familial relations at play in the Tsuouji royal family, including the fact that Tsuouji Kiriya was _not_ thought of a suitable ruler, despite being next-in-line to inherit the throne. It was not a hard fact to miss. 

“The _daimyou_ holds to a precedent belief system in which she thinks she is deciding with her people’s best intentions; however, she squarely misses the evidence that Tsuouji himself is vastly suitable to the throne.” Saying things aloud with the chosen diplomat was risky, but Abi was calmed by the fact of who exactly it was and knowing Shinri held the same belief. For all intents and purposes, this was strictly _off script and not professional._ “That being said, I am with remorse to tell you there is nothing we can do about it. That is between them. But I do hope he is faring well - please tell him I send my best and hope to see him again, hopefully soon…!” 

The open alcove which they entered past bowing fabric strands meant to ward off insects was unnamed, though Abi had referred to it in passing as the “Basin”. To Yotogari Shinri, this sounded off-key in comparison to what he was introduced with. The area was not large, but what space there was, was filled to the brim with people and a variety of spices not known to him. The terracotta divide between the dining area and the kitchen had a cooling effect to it, despite being one with the earth. Even the fiery pit that could be seen glowing in the farthest corner was allotted with large leaves and a filtering of foggy smoke that disippitated past a skylight. As if she knew every inch of the building, Abi led the two to a conservative table in the back, already reserved with menus which had seen better days, yet required no replacement. While Shinri was examining the front and back of the pamphlet, he found himself aware that Abi was not indulged with looking at the menu. Rather, she was using it as a fan! Without being able to say anything, they were promptly greeted by a brusque woman in her later years, hair tied back haphazardly and promoting stains and a rainbow of spices on her apron. “ _Miss Ocean_! How good to be seeing you again! And a new visitor, I see… A lucky man, lucky indeed - now tell me what it will be this time!” 

“Today?” Abi mulled over her thoughts, humming beneath her breath before speaking up in epiphany. “Something with a bit of sweetness, but not too much? Maybe extra spice on the side for later. Oh, and could I ask for a prickly pear with honey?” With a clicking of her tongue and smile following suit, the sparkling tiger-eye of the woman’s irises descend upon Shinri, ready to scribble a new note on her pad. Quietly fumbling to find something to order, Shinri finds himself terror-stricken, as if suddenly unfamiliar with the characters and symbols of the menu he had not been paying attention to. 

“Um...Can I have number ten? The flatbread and sweet potato sticky rice with broiled-” 

“Of course, of course! Now tell me what you like to drink, or will you share with _Miss Ocean_ here? A pitcher then?” Shinri’s throat has dried up completely, mouth slack with the inability to speak any further. For once, he’s truly grateful for how perceptive Abi is and comes to rescue him, politely ordering water for him. It takes another moment for Shinri to recover fully, and he waits until after taking a tentative sip at his iced water to breathe again and calm down. Meanwhile, Abi, still fanning herself, licks at her lips after her own drink, submerged in a light pink and green juice, seeming to glint golden in the sunlight with a pink blossom off the rim. A sudden thought comes to him. “Abi? ...Why did that woman call you.. _Miss Ocean_?”

Blinking openly, as if tasting his words, Abi bursts into another purr of short laughter, eyes creased in a smile before leaning in, lips together as if she is...embarrassed. It’s an obscenely new look that illuminates her face by bringing out each shadowy aspect that frames it in the dimness; a look upon her that Shinri is not yet familiar with, yet in a shameful flash of a moment, he feels hunger to find every nook and cranny of things he does not yet know about her. She’s contemplating how to word it, unable to conjugate the right terminology without seeming silly. She gives up this quest, however, and simply speaks with a breathness. “When I first came here, to the city, it was very hot for someone like me.” Too hot for Shinri, too! And he had only been here for a day! “I quickly found this restaurant when I transferred and began new work, but I could not acclimate to such arid life! So...each time I came here for lunch - since it was such a small commute and such good food - I would order nearly _three pitchers_ of water. Just for myself…!” Yotogari Shinri is consciously attempting to retract the drop of his lip and space between his brows, yet finds it inevitable at her confession. “My body could not handle the sudden change, and my _chakra_ kept faltering day and night. My affinity for water and heritage was unaccepting to the idea of being in such a hot and dry atmosphere that I was constantly drinking more and more water. Eventually, _Tsunagi_ began to say I was like an ocean; that I could fill an entire ocean with how much I drink! And so now...” For a ride of a story that was completely unexpected on his part, Shinri cannot help but sit back in awe...and laugh. For the first time in what seems like weeks, perhaps months, he finds himself laughing as if one of his brothers had just told him a joke that was actually good and deserving of the sound! Abi has done nothing of the sort of silliness or deserving embarrassment, but he cannot help himself from the laughter that escapes him so fervently. She doesn’t seem to mind, however, when he sees she is laughing, too. 

When their food arrives, still steaming and filling enough from the scent of spices, alone, Shinri looks up and cannot help but think that Abi is very much like the water she craves - like a bounty of it that ripples across the desert he is stranded in. But he recognizes her. Sees something familiar, yet with new variety that only makes him more curious, for once feeling reassured with liquid courage. He thanks her for the meal and because she does not permit him to pay, he leaves a grandiose tip for Tsunagi for the full and warm belly of food.

Waiting for the moon to climb the night sky is spent waiting for food to settle and settling on the notion that something in Shinri feels small and would like an ounce more of the warmth the city lends to him. Abi had offered to usher him around the best sites, dismissing the workload Shinri assumes she has to complete. “It is a courtesy thing to do, it will not harm me! You are here just for a miniscule time; so I would like to make sure it is spent well. My business can be handled at another time, but the time present should be spent with you.”

Despite all basis of common knowledge, Shinri seems to surprise himself to learn that the moon appears just as clear and mystic here as it would back home. It trickles and enropes him, facing him all the same with little difference to where he is. She has few sympathies, even, while reflecting upon Shinri until the break of dawn comes and he surmises that acting into his newly appointed role could be worthwhile. In writing to Kiriya, he discloses the vastness of the desert. He depicts each slope and sand dune that he breathes into his lungs, how dark and cold it becomes at night. Rancid sights he is not used to seeing, and yet, for all of it Yotogari Shinri ends with the pools of water hidden like folklore beneath airy blue skies, and how he felt of inhaling it into his being if granted the chance.

**Author's Note:**

> Shin and Abi don’t meet until the war or just after while in Sunagakure at the same time, where Shinri is sent on behalf of both Otogakure and Hanagakure to extend an olive branch - a shaky one at that. 
> 
> I suddenly had this idea one day, as boring and mundane as it is, but over time as I continued adding to it I just-I don't know, I fell in love with it? It seemed to make so much sense, but I also wanted to use it to touch on some subjects that I hadn't before, and it's all very...endearing and gentle between the two. Which I think is sweet, especially that they are meeting under such interesting circumstances and the feeling like they are both so out of place but somehow..know each other, really.


End file.
